


I have Somnambulism, Dean

by feelsnotfeelings



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Roommates/Housemates, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-18
Updated: 2015-05-18
Packaged: 2018-03-31 03:58:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,250
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3963544
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/feelsnotfeelings/pseuds/feelsnotfeelings
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean Winchester's roommate sleepwalks. Usually into his bed.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I have Somnambulism, Dean

There was a boy in Dean’s bed. Not unusual, except he didn’t remember inviting this one. He really didn’t appreciate it either, seeing how the dick had stolen all his covers, leaving him to wake up shivering. He was completely wrapped up in them, too. All Dean could see of the guy was an explosion of hair, darker than dark, in stark contrast to the pillow he was clutching like it was the only thing keeping him from falling off the Earth.

Dean found the edge of a blanket and pulled, way more roughly than necessary but hey, it was _his bed_ , and this guy didn’t belong there. At least, he didn’t think he did. He vaguely remembered flirting with someone last night, but he was pretty sure the guy had dreads and had turned out to be straight.

So who was this? For all Dean’s yanking, the guy had only burrowed deeper into the pillow— into _his_ pillow. Now he was pissed. He kneeled next to the headboard, grabbed onto the damn thing, and wrenched it out of the intruder’s hold.

Blue eyes glinted in the light filtering in from the hall. Blue eyes above deep bags, straight nose, and full lips. Cas. His roommate.

“What are you doing in my bed?” he asked, with no hint of sleepiness. Even his voice scowled.

“You’re in mine,” Dean said.

“Oh.”

And the fucker hunkered down and went back to sleep.

Dean spent the rest of the night on the couch.

***

_Shit_. Dean was late he was _reallyfuckinglate_. For not the first time that semester he cursed his decision to register for a 9 am class. Especially one that assigned _presentations_. He didn’t bother to change his boxers or t-shirt, just threw on yesterday’s jeans and a flannel that smelled okay. Grabbing his notes (yes they _were_ pink thankyouverymuch) he flung open his door, only to step on something that was definitely not carpet. It was warm and collapsed under his weight. And it _yelped_. Apparently Cas had tried to come into his room last night and just decided to camp outside.

It was becoming a regular thing. The sleepwalking. Dean knew he should’ve just pushed him onto the floor the first time. After the second time he’d started locking his door at night, not because it freaked him out or anything. Just, he’d nearly failed his exam that day after tossing and turning on the lump they generously called a couch.

Of course, he could always steal Cas’s bed right back, but he was above all that.

“Goddammit, Cas,” Dean cursed. “Why didn’t you go back to your own bed? You know, where _you_ sleep.”

“I have somnambulism, Dean. I’m not exactly in control of where I end up,” Cas said, strained, as Dean examined his rapidly bruising shoulder. What he— an engineering major— was looking for he didn’t know. It just felt like the thing to do.

He took him out for beer and burgers that night. To apologize.

***

Dean hid his face against his bedmate’s chest, nuzzling against warm skin. He slid a hand down over the rise of his hip to palm a firm thigh.

“Stop. Tickles,” a familiar voice growled in his ear, and its owner seized his wrist in a desperate grip.

Dean flopped onto his back, pushing a hand through his hair.

“Really, man? Where’s Benny?”

“Who?” Cas’s face was open, unabashed, as if he hadn’t just caught his roommate feeling him up. If anything he just seemed peeved that it tickled.

“You seriously didn’t uh, _hear anything_ last night?” he asked, hoping he caught onto the emphasis.

He looked away. “Right…”

Dean threw off the covers, not even caring that they swatted Cas right in the face. There was a line and he’d fucking crossed it.

He checked the living room, the bathroom, hell he even checked Cas’s room. No Benny. _Please please tell me I got his number_ , he prayed, snatching up his phone.

He had. Benny answered on the fourth ring, his “Hello?” more slur than drawl.

“It’s Dean. Listen, whatever he did, I’m sorry—”

“Well, brother, you didn’t tell me you had a boyfriend.” Benny sounded wide awake now.

Dean blinked, eyebrows jumping to his hairline. _Brother? After last night?_

“I don’t,” he said.

“Whatever he is, he was pretty pissed about the state of your bed, never mind he seemed right at home there.”

He still was, his bare back settled comfortably on the stiff sheets. Dean squirmed.

_Awesome_.

***

Dean couldn’t go back to sleep. He’d been lying awake for 23 minutes despite knowing that the solution was just a hallway-length away. Less, if it had happened to sleepwalk into the bathtub again. That had been an interesting morning. He wondered idly if they could both fit.

He shook himself. He was a grown man. _So what_ if he liked waking up to Cas pressed behind him, his slow breaths tickling his neck? He didn’t need to be cuddled at night.

He checked the clock. 26 minutes now, and morning wasn’t getting any further away. And he was so fucking tired.

Resigning himself to the humiliation, he grabbed his pillow and rolled out of bed. If he had to do this he would at least be considerate about it.

Cas’s door was closed, and Dean didn’t bother knocking.

Maybe he should have. Cas was sitting up in bed, bare arms hooked around blanketed knees. He looked almost relieved to see him, leaning back and folding down the duvet without either needing to say anything. Dean plunked his pillow next to Cas’s and slid into bed as his roommate’s hand fell easily to its usual spot on his hip. Their breathing soon evened out.

Dean woke too few hours later. Cas was disheveled and squinting at him, thoughtful. He liked seeing him like this, Dean realized. Looking fresh-hatched— or fresh-fucked, depending on his mood.

Slowly, so as not to spook him, Dean leaned up and pressed their lips together. Testing.

***

Dean jerked awake and slapped at the alarm clock with a practiced motion. Five more minutes. He wished it could last all day, that he could stay curled up in the warmth and the smell of Cas. It was hard to believe there was a time when he wouldn’t admit he wanted this.

He unconsciously snuggled closer, his ass settling into the bend of his lover’s hips, where the fabric of his boxers caught on a telling ridge. He chuckled and wove his fingers through Cas’s.

“Smug bastard,” he grunted. “I’m ignoring you.”

“Mmhmm,” Dean said as a knee pushed forward between his own and strong arms tightened around him.

The alarm’s godawful screeching restarted, and Dean untangled himself from Cas’s limbs before he could hit the button again.

“Nuh-uh, angel, we agreed one snooze and then somebody had to get up,” he said, slipping a robe over his shoulders.

Cas threw a significant look downward, and Dean sent one back that he hoped hid his amusement.

It wasn’t like he _wanted_ to leave, but the last time he’d let his boyfriend control the alarm Sam had nearly busted the door down, and then spent the rest of the day complaining about his ‘poor scarred retinas’.

He left the bedroom door open and padded into the kitchen to start coffee and breakfast. He knew the smells would draw him out.

For now, though, there was a boy in Dean’s bed. But it was all right. It was his bed too.


End file.
